


not my style

by GothMaureen



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Best Friend Clint, F/M, Mentor Figure Maria, Reader with Tattoos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 18:00:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6967492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GothMaureen/pseuds/GothMaureen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fate's a funny thing.</p>
<p>or, a series of Reader insert soulmate stories, featuring characters of the Marvel Cinematic Universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	not my style

**Author's Note:**

> This sort of burst, fully formed and created, from my brain one day; like Athena from Zeus' skull.
> 
> Hey, I haven't posted anything in like, a million years, cut me some slack. Plus, we're all nerds here. 
> 
> I'm actually pretty proud of this, I haven't written any serious Reader insert fic, well, ever. I do have a few ideas for more in this series, so we'll see what happens with that. 
> 
> Hope ya'll enjoy.

You've loved watching tattoo artists since you were a kid, fascinated by the way they could create such beauty on a person. So when you wake up one day with it, you can't help but cry. It's like the most beautiful tattoo sleeve you've ever seen, all sleek silver-grey lines that wind down to your wrist. It shimmers in sunlight, glints like metal, and you wear it proudly, despite the stares of passerby.

You get your own tattoos, but nothing can top that mark, their mark.

You've been working at the little coffee shop for a few months, just while you apply for some other things. When you get a call from somebody named Wall about an interview for S.H.I.E.L.D, you're surprised: you'd only applied to their Academy because one of your friends had dared you. So when you're sitting opposite the black-haired woman with the badge, you do your best to be serious, drop some BS about wanting to keep the world safe, when she smirks at you. "You can drop it now. Despite your lack of recommendations or credentials, I like your spunk. SHIELD needs more agents like you."

So there it goes. You show up to the Academy and despite not being in any sort of physical shape, you work. The other recruits stare at your arm, but you learn to use that distraction against them. Your teachers train you to use your speed, your litheness, to your advantage.

When you get your badge, you smile. You've done it, you're really here. Agent Wall from those years ago smiles as she presents you with the badge, officially making you a SHIELD field agent. "Wear it with pride," she says, and you do.

You're assigned protection detail of Erik Selvig with Agent Barton, who you like. You like any weapon you can get your hands on, and the fucker is nice enough to show you his bow. "Nice shot" he says as you hit the makeshift targets, jumping from his perch to give you pointers.

You want to put a knife in Loki's skull for what he does to Clint.

You don't get that, but you do get promoted to a higher security clearance, on the archer's recommendation. So when you're transferred to the Triskelion and all hell breaks loose, you loose it too.

It glimmers in the sunlight, silver metal that shines bright, almost glowing.

You want to cry, but instead you call up Clint. He flies out from visiting his sister, and whe he arrives at your apartment door you're throwing knives at the dartboard, a glass of something strong on the table. "You look like shit," the archer says, flopping onto your couch and making himself at home.

"You've seen the news, you know what's going on. You know about...him." The last word falls off your tongue and you throw your last knife at the dartboard, where it hits the bullseye.

"C'mere, come to meee," Clint holds out his arms from the couch, waiting. You trudge from the table and fall into your best friend's embrace. "You got dealt a shit hand, it happens," he squeezes you tight before letting go. "But it could be worse."

"How could it possibly be worse?"

"You could be bonded to me," he wiggles his eyebrows and you smack his shoulder.

Clint really has become your best friend. You're best friends with an Avenger and soulmated to a HYDRA assassin. Life's just peachy.

 

* * *

 

Everything's gone to shit, but you can count on your best friend: Clint recommends you to Maria Hill, newly working for Stark. She reads your file and brings you in, happy for another familiar face. Avengers Tower is fucking huge, but soon things move into place. Maria assigns you to intel on some European country, Sokovia. "As much information as you can find."

You do the digging you know you're good at, presenting Maria with a report that would be as thick as your arm if you actually printed it two weeks later. "Excellent work," she smiles, something you rarely saw (on the rare occasions you saw her) before.

On your birthday Clint hands you a box, which reveals what you never imagined. A bow, made of the same jet black metal as the archer's own. It slides into your hands with ease, and you hug him tight. "Thank you."

So when the Avengers go off in search of Loki's staff, you clutch the bow to your chest and for a single moment, wish you were going with them. Maria has you on comms though, satisfying your need to be in on the missions. She's busy attempting to keep things in line, and you ensure the Avengers make it out alright.

The party is fun, and you dress up in something nice (working for Stark Industries has its perks), sweater pulled over your mark. Later, when everything's said and done, you hesitantly join the Avengers; Clint pulls you down next to him and Natasha (You'd done a few missions she'd been on, and Clint had practically insisted you talk). When Ultron shows his ugly mug that first time, it feels almost like that night with Loki: the first time you fought something that went bump in the night.

You find a stash of knives under a table and start throwing, until one lands smack dab in the damn robot's eye. "Nice one!" You hear somebody yell (it sounds like Captain America), and then you're rolling under a chair, Maria on your side. She's clutching a gun in one hand, and you've got a few knives left, tucked into the belt of your dress. Your sweater is long gone for ease of movement, and Maria looks a moment at your mark before going back to the task at hand.

You officially hate robots.

 

* * *

 

Maria hands you a plastic badge shaped like a triangle, attached to a lanyard. "Theta Protocol." She says, and you see she has one attached to her shirt pocket. You unclip the badge and re-clip it to your belt, incredibly confused. Clint and the others have been gone for a while now, dealing with Ultron and all that.

"Well, come on!" She's walking away, and you jump up to follow her.

Maria leads you to the harbor, where out of the damn blue comes a motherfucking Helicarrier. This is insane, and then once you're on board it gets even crazier because the entire thing is staffed. Maria hands you a uniform but it's not the one you're used to: emblazoned on one breast is a black eagle and the words COMMANDING FIELD OFFICER.

"I-what the hell?" You hold the uniform in both hands and look from Maria back to the suit.

"You've proven yourself over and over that you're worthy. On this ship, you are now Clearance Level 8 and the third highest authority after myself." Maria twists her hair into a knot at the base of her neck and waits as you slip into the uniform. It fits like it was made for you, and you take the navy colored headband Maria holds out, pushing your hair off your face.

"One last thing," and she's handing you Clint's gift, along with a belt quiver. "And these," she slides a pack of knives, thin and meant for throwing, in your palm. "You might need 'em."

You hold your head high and when you see Nick Fury alive and kicking st the helm, you smile. He asks you about Sokovia and you pull up the report, summarizing. "These people aren't going to always trust SHIELD, but we might change that."

You shadow Maria, directing agents you've never met, and when you hear Rhodes and Wilson you smirk. They really have thought this through.

You lead shuttles, and with a comm in your ear it's easy to assess the situation, when you hear Steve's voice in your ear you jump down and then you're throwing knives at robots and shuffling civilians away. You can hear Clint miles away, laughing as you notch the bow and fire.

They're not as fancy as his, but your shots fire true, and when that doesn't work you switch to the knives, which knock out the bots about as quickly as you can collect them. "Get on a boat, we're leaving!" Maria's voice sounds in your ear, and as you're about to clear your shuttle for flight, Clint is running off it.

He returns with a scared little boy, and Captain America; holding the body of Pietro Maximoff.

 

* * *

 

Cap...Steve, he asks you to call him, asks you about your mark one day at the new facility. Why now is a mystery, but he does.

"I want you to know that Bucky, he-"

"Save it," you hold up a hand to his overly pretty face. "I'm reconciled to it now, not everybody gets what they want."

Steve is stumped for a moment. "No, I mean, he's not what you think. HYDRA brainwashed him, but he's good inside, I promise. I'm-I've been trying to find him."

You stare at the blonde, more than a bit confused. "What the hell?"

"Bucky, he remembered me, I know the good man's still in there. Don't lose hope, we'll find him."

 

* * *

 

Oh, you find him alright. The damn bombing in Vienna, these motherfucking Accords, that's all it takes for you to call Maria and tell her to find Phil and get underground while you handle this. She agrees wholeheartedly, telling you where she'll be, and you strap your bow to your back and find Steve in London. "You and I are going to fix this," you snarl at him.

The three of you (Steve, Sam, and yourself) get help from Sharon and soon you're in Romania, jumping up a fire escape to the apartment she'd given you, Sam on the roof, Steve going through the building. "Careful," Sam's voice is in your ear, and you tumble through the window to find Steve inside already. He's holding a notebook, and you both turn to see-

_him_.

Bucky Barnes is staring at the exposed mark on your arm, which glows as much as ever in the faint light. He then turns his attention to Steve, and it's only a few seconds before all hell breaks loose.

You can't fire your bow in such close quarters, but that's what knives are for. You spin on one heel and pin one of the terrorist squad to the ground, throwing a knife with deadly accuracy at another, pinning him by his shirt collar to the wall.  When Steve follows Bucky out the window, you rush up to the roof where Sam is waiting. "It's bad-who the hell is that?" You both see the man dressed like a cat trying to rip your soulmate, and you fire an arrow down at them, which releases a smoke bomb, distracting the cat enough for Steve to show up on Sam's drop.

You get dropped next, firing a barrage of arrows, but it still goes to shit.

 

* * *

 

This motherfucker needs a knife in his eye, stat. He fucked up Bucky, he's tearing the Avengers apart, and when Steve asks you to call Clint you do so gladly.

He is so happy to hear your voice, and when he shows up with Wanda and some scruffy lookin' dude, the archer throws his arms around you and grins. “Missed you. Got kinda boring helping Laura,” he admits with his arms still around you.

“C’mon, we’ve got work to do.”

You suit up, following the lead Steve gives, dividing up arrows with Clint so you’re both covered for any situation, and as you’re about to follow your best friend away, you feel a presence behind you. Bucky is standing there, brown hair hanging in his eyes and watching you. He’s all height and jawline and he’s looking at you as you slip your gauntlets on to protect your forearms, the black leather contrasting beautifully with the gleaming silver of your mark. “It’s rude to stare,” you say, flipping a knife between your fingers.

“It’s really something,” he gestures to your arm, and you flip the knife you’re holding onto your belt. “Steve had told me, and I saw it in Bucharest, but up close..” he trails off, and you see something you can’t quite describe in his eyes.

You’re drawn to him, but how much of that is how he looks and how much is the bond you don’t even know. It’s not the fairytale your friends had always talked about, it’s not fireworks or explosions, it’s different. Just being around Bucky makes you feel-

There aren’t words for it.

The spark when Bucky touches his flesh hand to your marked arm is unlike any feeling you’ve had before, and you want to leap into his arms and make up for lost time.

But unfortunately, fate has other plans.

 

* * *

 

It is stupidly satisfying to shoot an arrow at Tony Stark’s head, you find out.

Also, you and Clint make a fairly good firing team, with one of you on a perch and the other on the ground. What is decidedly not fun is fighting Natasha: while your best friend has done this before and knows the assassin well enough, you are not prepared for what she can do.

Thank fuck for Wanda.

Clint throws you his bow-staff at one point, and it’s too short for you (despite being built, the archer is damn short) so you spin it over your head and whack it down onto the little spider-kid’s shoulders before tossing it back to Clint; “On your six!”

The archer whirls around and catches the bow just in time, and you throw a knife to distract the Black Panther before bringing your attention back to the damn _child_ in the spider outfit.

It hurts, it _hurts_ when you watch Steve and Bucky run for the quinjet. It hurts even worse when Natasha tells you to get the hell out of the airport, to go find Maria and stay with her, to _under no circumstances_ get yourself captured. “Somebody needs to make it out of here,” her voice whispers in your ear, handing you a gun and ferreting you out of the airport before anybody else can notice.

They’re all too busy dealing with everything else, anyway.

You call Maria, bandaging your wounds and really just wanting a strong drink, and she picks up on the second ring. “Hide me,” is all you say, and half an hour later there’s a quinjet picking you up in the middle of the German countryside. You don’t know any of Phil’s people personally, so you simply sit and wait. When it lands at whatever the hell Phil is calling his HQ, you shuffle off the plane and find Maria waiting for you. You get checked by medical and cleared, just some superficial cuts and bruises, nothing major.

“You alright?” the former Deputy Director hands you a cup of coffee, and you just sort of sigh. What is there to say, anyway?

“Coulson’s given you clearance to stay as long as you need, but I need to get back to the Upstate Facility ASAP, what with everything going on, and Rhodes.”

You sigh, thinking about Natasha’s words again, and about how Maria would literally shoot somebody in the skull for you (she’d admitted it one night, before Ultron, back at the Tower, when things were simpler). Stretching out a crick in your neck, you look her in the eyes and reply. “I’m coming with you.”

 

* * *

 

You’ve never flown a quinjet before, despite all of Clint’s talk about teaching you, so when Maria tells you that you both need to leave, it’s a bit surprising when it’s just the two of you in the plane. The older woman carefully directs you on what you have to do, and you remember why you like Maria: she never treats you lesser, and despite all the special treatment you've gotten, she’s careful never to treat you that way either. You work well together, and when you land at the Upstate Facility, you both rush out and start to assess what the hell is going on.

Cho is working on Rhodes, who looks bad, and Selvig is off working with Jane, so the science wing of the building is empty. You sneak into your room and change into something that actually belongs to you, carefully picking a shirt with long sleeves to cover up your mark.

It goes surprisingly alright, nobody tries to murder you. Well, Tony looks like he might punch you, but you stick the shadows, keep your comm unit in your ear and lay low, waiting for news.

When Tony leaves to visit Ross at the Raft, you heave a sigh, a very deep sigh, and bury yourself in work. Maria wants you maintaining everything here, since she’s busy trying to help Phil with something, fuck knows what.

  
You bury your head in keeping tabs on things, and there's no shortage of shit to do. So when Maria sends you a memo with coordinates and one word in it, you cock your head and look it up.

 

Wakanda. 

 

* * *

 

King T'Challa greets you with a smile, and when you're in the same room as Bucky your face almost drops. His arm is gone. All that's left of the mechanical working is a bit of twisted metal on his shoulder blade, still fused to his skin. 

You pull Bucky into your room, which is far more lavish than even your suite in the Tower was. You let him slide the coat from your shoulders, revealing the mark that now only you have, gleaming silver and crimson red (that star, now reclaimed, it's yours to bear for both of you now). 

"I'm not safe," he says, one hand on your thigh. "Everything HYDRA put there-" 

"I don't care. I've waited long enough," You hold a finger to his lips. 

"I'm going back under." 

Silence.

"When?" You look into those stormy eyes and wish, hope, but you know in your heart he's right. 

"Tomorrow." 

"Then let's make the most of the time we have," you whisper into his ear. "Make up our lost time and make some good memories for when you wake." 

His kiss tastes like nothing you can describe, because after so long it isn't even about that. It's about his lips on yours, after all this, finally. Bucky's balance is off with his missing limb, but you've become strong enough to make do. His stubble scratches your cheeks and every other place he kisses, but it's perfection in its way. 

Your bodies lock together like they were made to do nothing else, and with one hand on Bucky's chest you try not to scream with pleasure. Despite everything, all the time and the brainwashing and your own fear, you both know what you're doing.

And it feels so damn good.

The silver of your arm glows in the haze of the sunset, a beacon, a reminder. 

A mark of love lost, love found, love lost again; but love soon to be gained again. 


End file.
